


Random Snippets

by ladyluckrogue



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 05:18:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5572414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyluckrogue/pseuds/ladyluckrogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the We're Just Saiyan August BVDN (Drabble Night). Each prompt is 100 words or less with the possible exception of the last one. None of these are interconnected in anyway. They are just random pieces of the Bulma Vegeta timeline and are Bulma/Vegeta centric or revolve around their family. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Random Snippets

AN: Written for the We're Just Saiyan August BVDN (Drabble Night). Each prompt is 100 words or less with the possible exception of the last one.

None of these are interconnected in anyway. They are just random pieces of the Bulma Vegeta timeline.

Enjoy!

Prompt 1: Jealousy

She moved through the crowd like she owned it, which she pretty much did. No one could take that from her on a night like this. The guests, most of them suavely dressed men that made James Bond to shame, stumbled over themselves to glean one second of her attention. An offer for a dance, a new theory, the odd offer.

Her eyes on her dark prince, his eyes promising death when a stray hand brushed her. She wasn't sure what surprised her more, him being there at all or the jealousy in his eyes.

Prompt 2: Turmoil

It seemed like a lifetime ago when he had decided to stay on Earth. So much had happened since then. Majin Buu, long lasting peace of all things (and that may have been the worst), learning to live as one of them, encountering the God of Destruction, Frieza's reappearance and the fact that his over-thinking, his wanting to draw out the bastard's pain and torment to a fraction of what had been done to him had nearly cost the world...

Yet all of that paled in comparison to what those two blue lines meant that the woman held before him.

Prompt 3 Strife

He'd never met someone more disrespectful in his entire life!

Planets cowered before him, kings, self proclaimed Gods and Godesses...all of them had begged for mercy, for a minute of his attention in the destruction. He'd laughed as their blood painted their self proclaimed holy cities.

This girl, this woman...she had no fear. None. He'd threatened time and again everything he could imagine and she smiled. Her threats were far more subtle but he found himself at her mercy.

He should kill her, make her suffer like no other before. One glance in her blue eyes stopped him.

Prompt 4: Passion

As she looked over the simulation one last time she smiled, satisfied with the results. Weeks of work, not only with the research but with making a completely realistic visual projection had paid off.

Bra glanced at herself one last time in the mirror before making her way to the breakfast table. By the time she was ready to leave for school, she saw her mother's pale face, her father's look of pride as she closed her tablet.

"Wish me luck!" She said with a grin.

Her passion translated well in academia even if it meant scaring the humans.

Prompt 5: Death

For years she'd gone to bed on an empty stomach to ensure he'd had a full one. Everything she had, she'd given him, with the hope that he'd at least have a good memory or two, that he'd at least survive.

She needn't have worried. He was strong that one. Good genes if she said so herself. She'd gotten to the point where she didn't have to watch out for him so much, where she found herself with free time, the foreign thing it was.

Between computations and coffee she faded and dreamt of him and death.

Prompt 6: Sickness:

Bulma's normally bright eyes were dull, her very skin didn't have the glow it usually did, it was dull, lifeless, like the chalk the boy used to draw on the side walk outside.

As her temperature burned higher and her breath rasped with every cough he had to wonder if it was her last.

In all the years Vegeta'd been here he'd never seen her like this, so lifeless. Even so, her brainless mother continued to deliver soup like it was just another day.

Her hand moved to his, her voice a whisper, "It's just the flu, I'll be fine."

Prompt 7: Hatred

There were times where Bulma hated him. Even as she glanced at the bouncing, all too happy baby in her lap, she couldn't even fathom how he'd contributed.

It was a beautiful day, the sun shining, birds chirping but Bulma's mood couldn't have been darker. Doomsday was approaching and not a word since those two little lines on a piece of plastic.

She'd endured pain, loneliness and suffering that he couldn't imagine, regardless of what he'd been through and the petulant child in her could only cry out, "It's not fair!"

But her little boy's smile made it worth it.

Prompt 8: Curiosity

She looked at the images on the lightboard with an awe he could almost hate. She had that same glint when she looked at blue prints or wiring. He wasn't a damn bot.

"I never realized...It's like the human spine with extra vertebrae...on steroids!" Her eyes shined with unspoken questions before dimming as she narrowed her gaze on him.

"It's a wonder you didn't break something."

He sneered as he levered himself up despite the pain. "Fix it."

"I'm not a damn doctor..." She seethed.

She recognized the rare trust there, sighed, and gathered her supplies.

Prompt 9 Hope:

There were times where she saw it, the faint glint in his eyes when they lay there spent, sweaty, she thought she saw a glimpse that he cared.

Bulma was not your average woman. She had brains and beauty to match. Not to mention money. Anyone who was anyone wanted just the chance to kiss her hand much less have her in their bed.

Why was it then that he disregarded her as if she was nothing most nights. He rolled over and said nothing.

It was nights like these that Bulma Briefs doubted everything...but she could hope.

Prompt 10 Giver of All:

He had never expected resurrection. For all he'd committed for all the heinous acts, the blood, the destruction, he'd awaited a sentence in the lowest depths of hell.

He who had destroyed so much, who had brought so much pain...

He had lost everything and yet he found himself alive. It was surreal, he felt himself moving toward her but couldn't look, couldn't grace her with his gaze.

How could he, the very harbinger of death dare gaze on her when she had selflessly given so much? It was only then that the morals she'd tried to cram down his throat all the years clicked in place. He should have felt shame but as her arms moved around him, welcoming him home, he felt complete.


End file.
